


Perchance to Dream

by Izout



Category: Stand By Me (1986)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-02-27 02:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2676353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Izout/pseuds/Izout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say dreams are the windows into the mind. What sort of secrets are hidden in dreams? What truths come out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perchance to Dream

Disclaimer: Not mines. Anything mention here by name isn't mines.

* * *

**Gordie**

* * *

Gordie Lachance sat by the shore of the lake with his older brother Denny sitting right by him. Both of them watching the lures of their fishing rods bobbing on the surface of the water. The air was cool and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The area was even surprisingly mosquito free. It was a perfect day.

"Do you think we'll catch anything?" Gordie look to his brother and asked.

"We gotta be patience with these things. They'll come when they come." Denny explain to him.

"How big do you think the fish will be?" Gordie asked him.

"This big." Denny replied, putting his rod down and stretching out his hand to emphasize his thoughts.

Suddenly they notice Gordie's lure started to wiggle around.

"I think you got something, now reeling it in back slowly." Denny instructed and Gordie turn the drag adjust counter clockwise. The lure still bobbed before going down under the water. "You got it! Pull!" Denny shouted.

Gordie started turning the adjust faster and faster. "Come on you can do it Gordie!" His brother encouraged him, but the fish wasn't letting go. The rod was even started the bend. "Here, let me help." Denny got up closer and grabbed the handle and butt of the rod, but once Denny did, Gordie was hit with a revolting stench but it couldn't have been the lake it didn't stink before.

Gordie kept rewinding the drag adjust while Denny kept fighting against the fish. After one last rewind, the fish was pulled from out of the water, it wriggling in the air. Gordie smiled at his triumph while Denny laugh in excitement.

"You did it champ, I knew you could do it." Denny congratulated him, pride beaming on his face.

"Yeah, but I couldn't have done it without you." Gordie told him as he put the fish in the bucket. "Denny?" Gordie asked him as he started to notice Denny's skin complexion started to pale and he had bags under his eyes.

"Sure you could have and you're going to have learn to carry on without me." Denny told him solemnly, flies started to buzz around him.

"What… what do you mean?" Gordie asked him confused, noticing Denny was starting to look weaker and thinner.

"It was nice spending time with you again champ, wish I could do it more often." Denny told Gordie, giving him a sad smile.

"Denny what are you talking about? Denny?" Gordie grabbed him by his wrist, hearing a squishy sound, "Denny, you can't go, I don't know what I'll do without you, especially with dad!"

"Don't worry about Pop too much."

"But he hates me." Gordie told him, looking down.

"Gordie, listen to me, dad doesn't hate you he just doesn't get you. You just have to find a way to get through to him."

"But I'll be lonely without you." Gordie's voice cracked as he said that, tears starting to appear.

"You'll never be alone Gordie, I'll always be there looking out for you." Denny told him softly. "Plus you have some really good friends."

Gordie sniffled. "You really mean that Den-?" Gordie stopped when he looked up at his brother and almost screamed.

"Gordie?" Denny asked raspy as flies buzzed around, half the skin on him falling apart, and part of his jaw bone sticking out. His skin a putrid green and an eyeball hanging out from its socket. Gordie looked down at his hands and saw bits of flesh and blood in his palms.

 _Gordie's eyes shot open and his heart pounding hard against his chest. He looked out his window and saw that it was still night. He looked at his clock and saw it was 3 in the morning. Next to his clock was a picture of Denny and him at Denny's 15_ _th_ _birthday._

" _Denny." Was all Gordie could say as he sat up and held the frame in his hands, wondering it was all just a dream or was that really his brother communicating with him._

* * *

**Chris**

* * *

"Christopher, honey, time to get up. You'll be late to school if you don't hurry."

Chris rolled out of bed, stood up, and stretched. "I'm coming, Mom."

Chris went into the bathroom, washed his face and hands, and went downstairs where he saw his mother in the kitchen flipping pancakes, decked out in a blouse and skirt, apron tied around her waist. On the dining table was a spread of a huge pile of pancakes, pitchers of white milk and orange juice, bacon, ham, a bottle of maple syrup, a tray of butter, and biscuits.

"Thanks for making breakfast mom." Chris thank her, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"No problem sweetie." She told him before going to the stove and picking up the kettle, "More coffee hun?" Mrs. Chambers asked her husband with a smile, him all dressed to the nine.

"Please." Mr. Chambers replied, smiling back as he held up his mug and she pour the hot liquid in. "Eat up boy, you're going to be late for school and I'll be late for work."

"Sir yes sir." Chris said as he went to get a plate, piling it with griddle cakes and stripes of bacon.

"Orange juice?" His mother asked.

"Yes please." He replied as his mother pour him up a glass.

"Good morning family." Came out a new voice and all three Chamberses smiled.

"Oh Richard!" Mrs. Chambers squealed as she ran over to hug her eldest son, decked out in a letterman jacket and a pair of jeans. "I'm so proud of you."

"George Fox University, never thought I see the day, make us proud son." Mr. Chambers told him.

"You know I will Dad," Richard told him, "And I know we'll be seeing Christopher there in six years too." Richard then playfully ruffled his little brother's hair.

"I'll believe that little shit doing it when I see it." Their father said and it surprise Chris.

"Dad?" Chris asked him, suddenly noticing the bottle of whiskey in his hand.

"Yes son, I said I'll know we'll see you there too." Mr. Chambers told him and Chris blinked, the bottle being replaced with the mug of coffee.

"Oh." Was all Chris said, guessing he was just seeing things.

"Hey asshole, pass the ham!" His brother yelled at him, punching him in the shoulder for good measure.

"Ritchie!?" Chris exclaimed.

"I said, Christopher, please pass the ham." Richard told him, concern on his face.

"Oh right." Chris then did as he was asked.

"More syrup?" Mrs. Chambers asked him.

"Yes please." And Chris watched as a waterfall of syrup landed on his pancakes. "Ok Mom, that's fine." He told her but the syrup just kept pouring. "Mom? Mom that's enough." He told her again, but the syrup just kept coming. "Mom?" Chris was confused as to what was happen as his mother kept pouring on the syrup in a mechanical manner, flooding the plate and even spilling over the side. "Mom?" Chris looked up and saw his zoned out mother pouring the syrup bottle until it was empty, a dead look in her eyes. "Mom?"

"Leave your mother boy, she was pulling an all nighter all night!" Mr. Chambers barked, his suit gone and instead he was wearing a stain undershirt and in his boxers.

"What the hell is going on here? Ritchie, do you… Ritchie?" Chris turned to his brother, only to see that he was gone. "What?" Chris started becoming more scared and when he saw his perfectly clean home suddenly tear up like paper and peel off, revealing his old, messy, worn out home. Newspaper scattered all over the floor and empty or broken alcohol bottles lined up in the kitchen.

"Where's that sack of shit son of ours Judy?" Mr. Chambers demanded from his wife.

"In the county jail, he and his friends had gotten into some trouble and he needs his bail paid." Mrs. Chambers explained to her husband.

"Fuck him, I'm tired of spending my hard earn money bailing his ass out." Mr. Chambers said. "And that goes for you too boy, after what happen with the milk money, I'll be damn if I have to be embarrassed by this family again." Mr. Chambers looked Chris dead in the eye.

"But Dad, I told you I didn't steal it." Chris pleaded to him.

"I don't know anything!" Mr. Chambers told him as he struggled to get up from the table and lumbered his way into the living room.

Chris looked around, his home was a mess, his brother was in jail, his mother was a dead-eyed zombie, and his father was making his way over to his liquor cabinet. Feeling sick, Chris got up from the table and ran into the bathroom where he looked himself in the mirror and then splash water in his face.

"This is a dream, this is all a dream." Chris whispered to himself, this couldn't be his life!

"Oh but it is." Chris jumped as his father suddenly appear in the bathroom with him, as if he heard his thoughts. "This is your life and your future. Look forward to it son." Mr. Chambers told him as he place a hand on his shoulder and smiled down on his son with twisted pride and Chris looked into the mirror and saw that he had turned into mini-replica of his father: same fading hairline, bloodshot eyes, expose beer belly, stain shirt and pants, as well as holding a glass of sherry in his hand.

_Chris breathed hard and shivered, his face and shoulders covered in sweat. He sat up and looked across the room and saw his brother completely out like a light, no doubt passed out from all the drinking he had been doing. Chris listened carefully and heard the house was completely silent saved for Eyeball's snoring._

" _That's not going to be my future." Chris vowed to himself as he returned to his slumber._

* * *

**Teddy**

* * *

"Are you ready soldier?" Mr. Duchamp asked his son.

"Sir yes sir!" Teddy exclaimed.

"Good, because we jump now!" Mr. Duchamp said as the two jumped out of the plane and fell through the air before opening their parachutes. They floated down to the ground as gunfire rang through the air. After taking off their parachutes, the two stormed the battle field, shooting at the enemy soldiers heading their way.

"There's too many of them Dad!" Teddy screamed over the gunfire and bombs exploding.

"Keep firing son, you take them down before they can take us down!" Mr. Duchamp exclaim and the two kept firing.

The battle had raged on and it seem unending. Guns were fired, grenades were thrown, and bombs went off. Bodies of fallen soldiers, both from their side and the enemy, littered the ground but they had to keep on fighting.

"Die Nazi scum!" Teddy shrieked as he grabbed his knife slid the German soldier's throat before twisting around and stabbing another German soldier in the gut as he was approaching him.

"You're doing it son, you're doing it!" Mr. Duchamp shouted as he fired his gun. Eventually the battle died down and the soldiers were able to rest for a while.

"Think we scared 'em off for good Dad?" Teddy asked his father as the soldiers made camp.

"Don't get too cocky boy, you know they'll be back." Mr. Duchamp warned his son.

"Yeah," Teddy agreed, "But we kicked their asses, didn't we?"

"That we did."

"Your son sure is a chip off the old block, isn't he Private Duchamp?" One of the soldiers said to Mr. Duchamp.

"That he is." Mr. Duchamp then patted his son on the shoulder and smiled down at him. "Love you son."

Teddy smiled. "Love you t—" But as he said that, a rat had crawled up his pants leg and caused Teddy to jerk, kicking the stew pot in the process.

"What the hell was that?!" Mr. Duchamp yelled, looking around frantically.

"Dad, it was me, I just…" But Teddy was cut off as his father stared at him like he was a stranger.

"Who the hell are you?!" Mr. Duchamp demanded.

"D-Dad, it's me Teddy." Teddy explaining to him.

"You're one of them aren't you?" Mr. Duchamp demanded.

"Dad, what are you talking about? It's me your son."

"I don't know anything about a son, but I do know how to make you talk." Mr. Duchamp said as he grabbed Teddy by the arm and dragged him to a stove that suddenly appeared.

Teddy's eyes widen. "Dad no! Dad, it's me Teddy!" Teddy tried to reach out to his father as he struggled to break free.

"I don't know a Teddy, now tell us what you know!" Mr. Duchamp demanded as he grabbed Teddy by his hair and brought his face to the stove, bringing his ear to the flame.

"Dad, no stop! Dad!" Teddy screamed as the flame started to torch the flesh.

_Teddy blinked wake and massage his burned ear as it throbbed. He got up out of bed and made his way to his dad's old work study. Teddy looked around at all the medals and memorabilia that lined the room. He looked at the photo of his dad, dressed in uniform and looking ruggedly handsome._

" _I love you Dad." Teddy saluted the picture._

* * *

**Vern**

* * *

"I'm all finish Mom." Vern told his mother as he ate up the last bit of food off his plate.

"That you did, are you ready for dessert?" Mrs. Tessio asked her son. Vern excitedly nodded his head. "Ok here it is." Mrs. Tessio said as she went into the kitchen and Vern nearly gasp at the biggest chocolate cake he had ever seen.

"Hey Ma?" Called out a voice. Both Mrs. Tessio and Vern turned to their left and saw the eyes and nose of Billy Tessio peeking through the hole in the wall. "Can I have some cake too?"

"I have to see if you finish your plate first." Mrs. Tessio told him, "Hopefully you learn your lesson about locking your brother in a shack in the woods all night."

"Yeah Billy." Vern said smugly. Billy glared at his brother then wince when he saw the glare his mother was giving him.

"All right." Billy said as he disappeared into the shadows of the wall.

"Alright, here you go." Mrs. Tessio said as she cut him a very large slice of chocolate cake. Vern just smiled as he dug in. In a matter of seconds, he was finished. "Want another piece."

"Sure, it would be boss." Vern told her and she indeed put another piece on his place. Vern had barely finish his second piece when his mother slice on his plate. "That's ok Mom, I'm done."

Mrs. Tessio let out a mad cackle like a witch. "Done? Oh no, you're not done sweetie." She told him as she grabbed the slice of cake, his mouth with her fingers and thumb and jam it right in. Vern cough and nearly choked before he desperately reached for his drink and guzzled it down to clear our his throat.

"Mom, sincerely, I don't need anymore."

"Yes you do." She said as she grabbed a huge chunk of cake and jammed it into his face and made him eat it all.

"I think I'm ready for bed." Vern said as he tried to leave the table.

"Bed, but you still got more!" She exclaimed in a perky matter as suddenly more desserts appeared. Pies, custards, muffins and jell-o. Ice cream, pudding, candy, and brownies. "Here." She pulled out a PEZ dispenser from out nowhere and open the top, pieces of PEZ flew out of it and shot into Vern's mouth. He tried to chew them all down before swallowing.

"Mom, I'm done, sincerely!" Vern pleaded but he was ignored as she got a piece of New England Cranberry Pie and stuffed it into his mouth, some of the filling getting into his nostrils.

It went for what felt like an hour. His mother systematically stuffing treats and desserts into his maw. Vern was beginning the feel the inside of his stomach stretching against his belly and his pants getting so tight the button popped off!

"Mom…" Vern tried out, "Please… no… more."

She said nothing as she kept packing away more treats.

"Mom!" Vern screamed, "I'm full…. I'm full…!" Mrs. Tessio poured banana pudding down his throat and Vern started wildly coughing, his belly getting bigger and bigger until he felt his skin start to split apart and all of his guts poured onto the table and the floor.

_Vern jumped up when he heard his alarm clock going on. Whew! It was just a dream._

" _That's the last time I eat a twinkie before bed._

* * *

**The End.**


End file.
